


for gluttony or sharing

by nap_princess



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Friendship, Gen, Humour, I wrote this fic for me but y'all can read it if you want, Misadventures, Modern AU, Neurotic Tendencies, No proof reading we die like men!, Self-Improvement, fics based on my real life, mentions of bullying, mentions of depression, plot over romance, reunion au, this fic is more about growth than romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 07:53:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20503454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nap_princess/pseuds/nap_princess
Summary: It's time for a change– HansElsa BROTP, childhood friends reunion AU





	for gluttony or sharing

**Author's Note:**

> Notes 1: Just a couple of bros with some light angst and mischief.
> 
> Also, could be like another version of **crown shyness**, except not abandoned lol. I just really like the chaotic energy these two have. Writing ships can be whack at times so I'm just gonna write BROTPs for a bit. Like, the mischief these idiots would get into!! If you throw Anna in then it would be even more nuts.
> 
> During an adventure, I reckon Hans would be the reckless one who pretends to know his shit and be like 'I'm gonna lead even though I don't know how to and am actually gonna dive head first without a plan', and Anna would support this while Elsa tries to mother them but generally, she actually has no clue what's going on too. Kristoff is their rock. IMO, between these four, all of them collectively have one brain cell and it's not like they're even passing it around like a joint, it's all Kristoff. He deserves to be more than just 'the love interest' but I dunno how to write him and I forget about him like 2/3 of the time so I don't write him. Sorry, bro.

** for gluttony or sharing **

* * *

She was running late. Very late. _Scarily late._ And she was freaking out internally.

He was _waiting_ and they haven't seen each other in – _what? _– more than a decade, so who knows how good his patience is? Not her, that’s who. She had practised saying, 'Thanks for waiting' in her head because she had read it somewhere online and she didn't want to sound insecure by apologising profusely, but – _still_, she’s panicking.

(And, Elsa doesn’t know Hans _that well_)

Touching her hair, Elsa finds herself frowning. Maybe she shouldn't have spent so much time dressing up. She had tried to present herself tidily; with her platinum blonde hair braided and lipstick applied; simple and neat, yet getting dressed still took time. And, there was another thing – her cousin Rapunzel.

Rapunzel had kept trying to insist that Elsa's meet up with Hans was a 'fated' reunion. But, Elsa can't really say Rapunzel's judgement is one hundred percent reliable on the account that Rapunzel's too nice to say _anything_ mean; just recently, Rapunzel had told this new hairstylist to trim her long, blonde hair and the stylist ended up hacking it shoulder-length and making Rapunzel look like _Karen who **demands** to speak to your manager_! Rapunzel hadn’t blatantly lied and exclaimed, “I love it!” but she was too sweet to admit how she _really_ felt and ended up dyeing her hair brown to signify some kind of 'new hair, new me' mumbo.

_"It's time for a change." _Rapunzel had said, but was it really? Was it moving on to a newer her or was it not admitting a regrettable past decision?

But Elsa never got a chance to say anything about the matter because, by then, Rapunzel had moved onto a new topic: 'true love' and Elsa immediately knew Rapunzel had been talking to Anna a little _too much_.

So that's how Elsa ended up wearing a purple Summer dress, when what she really wanted was to wear pants in case she needed to run away – yes, you heard her right. okay, hear her out, this is mostly _the anxiety speaking_, but hear her out – or fight Hans – yes, _physically _fight him – because she hasn’t seen Hans in _years_ (but, judging by his profile picture, Hans is damn well _six foot_) and because Hans has told her some part of himself that Elsa still remembers. If she recalls right, Hans had mentioned his older brothers being mean to him when they were young. And, she doesn’t know, a part of her is scared that meanest festered onto him. Reunions are strange, even more so when it’s one-on-one: it’s either a nice time or some attempt to settle unfinished business.

Their history wasn't 'pure and 'innocent'. What if Hans grew up to be a psycho? He sounded sane when he contacted her, but, it was only via messenger. She doesn't know his _true_ mental stability.

Plus, he was the one with the car, so who knows how today might go? A part of her thought that – maybe he even wanted to murder her, because what if he wanted revenge after all those years like in those horror movies? Children can be rough, she may have thought they were playing when they were little but what if he figured she was bullying him? What if he wanted to confront her and lay it down thick? Could she run in a dress?

She doesn't know, maybe she's thinking too deeply about this. It happened years ago, her memories might be altered for all she knows.

Honestly, she would have dove deeper into her decisions if the train's speaker hadn't told her she had arrived at her destination.

There was no turning back now.

.

.

.

When she raced off the commuter platform and down the stairs towards the parked cars, she spotted his car almost immediately; it was like his text said, on her left, bright red. She was glad that he had told her his car licence number beforehand because she couldn't for the life of her distinguish car breeds, they were all the same to her.

Before she could peer through the window to double-check, a freckled hand had reached out and pushed open the passenger side of the door from the inside, from his seat behind the wheel – not that Elsa had expected Hans to exit the vehicle and open the door for her, as if they were in the era of _Jane Austin_, but he still had some chivalry, he made an effort to open the door for her – and she thought that little detail mattered.

She clutches onto her handbag and the strap digs into her shoulder. Who thought it was a good idea to make chained straps? Then her nervous hands found themselves clutching on the hem of her dress as she entered the vehicle and sat beside her.

"Thank for waiting." Elsa says like she had rehearsed and turns to look at him after clicking her seatbelt.

She took a moment to look at him (_really look at him_) beyond his profile picture – he had grown into his boyish good looks, his face was longer, freckles more prominent, green eyes looking a little darker and exhausted and older.

"Yeah, it's no problem." Hans answers. And Elsa notes that he still sounded the same way she recalls, though deeper and less moody.

He was dressed casually, in a button-up and jeans, so she guessed that meant whatever the occasion is, it's **not** serious. Definitely not a date like Rapunzel had predicted. Probably just lunch. At least, Elsa hoped so. She analysed things an awful lot – too much, even.

"So," Hans took his hand off the steering wheel and scratches the side of his face where his sideburns lied. "Lunch?" He asks.

Her eyes land on the clock blinking at her, and a guilty feeling kicked her in the gut for making him wait. He must be starving.

"Yeah, sure." She nods.

* * *

"What are you thinking about?"

Elsa blinks, and a moment of terror hits her before it vanishes as quickly as it came. She hopes he doesn’t notice how bad her anxiety has become. "What?" She answers back.

"What are you thinking about?" Hans repeats. "You've been staring at the centre of the table for almost two minutes straight. I'm afraid if I leave you with your thoughts, you'll think until midnight strikes."

Elsa suddenly realises where she is: an eatery, where the setting is _otherworldly_; with lowlights and music with no lyrics and paintings that are black and white. It feels like she’s sucked into another universe.

Biting her lower lip, Elsa thinks, it would be _so easy_ to pretend they're somewhere else that's not here in this world, that's not reality. The restaurant is hushed and the waiters aren't constant to the point of being annoying and people are nonexistent, late lunch or early dinners aren't as practised as brunch.

"Oh.” Elsa manages to say without her voice cracking from nervousness. “Oh, yeah, I just – I think a lot. A little too much, at times." Elsa says and feels herself blush. "My sister Anna can tell when I'm thinking a lot too. She says I always have this _far away look_ in my eyes and I, um, I sigh a lot."

A half-grin forms on his freckled face, like he's holding back from smiling fully in case she was to think he's mocking her with a smile.

"Yeah," He says. "I caught you sighing twice."

She almost blushes – again.

"But, anyway." Hans clears his throat. "What were you thinking about?"

She feels herself swallow. And then, she stares at him. Oh, he _definitely_ grew into his boyish good looks. A part of her wondered if he had a portrait of some kind in his attic.

"I'm just considering a question I wanted to ask you." She tells him. "Is it okay if I asked?"

She figures it's safer now to ask such a thing. Elsa hadn't wanted to unleash all her feelings in the car earlier, while he was driving and should supposedly have his eyes on the road – the vehicle had felt too closed off. It was like she was shut in. No, it was like she was _locked in_ a room and there was no way to get out unless she jumped out of the moving vehicle like a maniac.

Elsa thinks, serious talks should **never** happen in cars where there's nowhere to run away to. Situations where she feels the slightest bit trapped gives her this kind of want; this will, to race with her feet and be beyond all her worries.

She watches him. The side of his mouth twitches and, Elsa’s sure, if he had something to occupy his hands, he would fiddle with it.

"I guess so." Hans replies. "It's been a long time since we last each other so I expect you to be curious about me. Shoot. Ask away."

The way Hans had answered her question almost gave her that familiar itch of guilt. Elsa _could_ have started the conversation any other way. She could have subtly slipped the question or she could have said it pleasantly or gone the long route and told stories before settling on the main reason for her agreeing to this whole meeting.

But, Elsa’s the type of person who thought a lot, and she didn't like leaning into her thoughts because that meant worrying about things that are fifty steps ahead when people aren't even on step two.

She’s also a person of habit (and a person who **hated** waiting). So she asked, right there and then, after they had dilly-dallied in their orders and made small talk.

"What –" She starts and could feel the intensity and nervousness gathering at the base of her jaw. "What is all this?"

"Pardon? What do you –" He pulls his eyebrows together. "What do you mean? We're having lunch, aren't we?"

"Yes, we are, but," She doesn't want to add any dramatic pauses but she can't help but stop for a second, her anxiety is making her second guess herself. "Why are we meeting up all of the sudden? Why now? Are you going through something? Do you need something from me? Is it closure?"

"Closure?" He repeats the word like it's foreign to him. "Closure on what?"

She opens her mouth to answer though all she wants to do is keep it clamped shut. "On _the incident_."

"The incident?" He mimics her words again and Elsa's starting to think he's playing mind games with her.

"You know,” She says with a tone. “_The incident_ that made you change schools."

His face doesn't shift from her proddings of whatever made him move schools, but he says, "You remembered I changed schools?" like her words shook him.

She almost chokes. "Of course, I remembered you changing schools. It was so sudden! I –" She presses her glossed lips together. "I always wondered what happened to you. I mean, _why did you move_?" The question moved out of her mouth before Hans could even blink. "Why did you change so suddenly? You just left."

“I …” He speaks slowly. “I always leave.”

"Do you?" She asks back. "Are you sure you're not lying to me as a cover-up? You can tell me if you are, because, I admit, I don't recall much. I just have this faint memory that you were bullied and that you left one day after _that incident_ happened."

His handsome face bunched up to create _that expression _again, like he still hasn't caught what she means.

But Elsa continues talking, "No explanation, no nothing. You just left and the next day during assembly, the principal – You remember her, don’t you? Principal Yzma? She was such an old crone. But, anyway, Principal Yzma made an announcement that the school doesn't tolerate bullying anymore because of you."

"Because of me? They announced my name to the whole school?" Hans asks. He must think he’s dreaming.

"Yeah, they said your name. And that you moved schools due to the bullying."

Hans scoffs. "I can't believe the school only started caring about me after I left. Wait, no, actually, I can believe it. Did they take action?"

"Sorta." Elsa answers then licks her lips. "The execution was terrible. Things got worse."

"Worse? Worse how?" Hans asks once again.

Elsa can’t help but start to wonder how did the topic of their history snowball so badly. It sounds dark to her. It sounds like she shouldn’t even be talking about it. The past is in the past, right?

“Well,” She says. "They never took action against the kids who gave you a hard time. On the same day they announced you left, they also told the whole school that the bully was …" Elsa swallows again. "... me,"

"Wait, _what_?"

An emotion of 'I know right!' rose in her chest. "Yeah, they blamed _me_. They said I was at fault. But –" Elsa looks at Hans in the eyes. "But, I was ... I was your friend at the time, wasn't I? You knew I'd never do that to you."

His green eyes hardened. "Of course, you wouldn't. I liked you. You were my friend, Elsa. My _only _friend. Actually, at the time, I would consider you my _best friend_."

She opens her mouth to say something. Anything. Maybe even a weak 'okay', but that word wouldn't slip out from her mouth.

"W – Well," She chokes out. "Well, the school didn't see it that way. They labelled me as a bully and I was shy, I kept to myself, I didn't have a lot of people to back me up. The only person who could vouch for me was Anna, but she was family, so, you know, it wasn't solid proof."

Elsa screws her eyes shut, thinking heavily again. She knew since she was young that she was intelligent and that she was creative. She had won awards for that; ribbons and trophies and medals. She was a normal student who did what she was told, followed the rules, played and made friends. She was a good girl.

"After you left, Hans, there was no way I could redeem myself." Elsa continues. "We were 90s kids, we barely grasped what e-mails were, and you lived so far away so there wasn't a reason to get your phone number. It wasn't like I could call your house and have your parents drop you off so we could play together. And then _Facebook_ happened and I accepted several friend requests from people I grew up with, but I didn't find a reason to look for you. We were _so young _but you were _so angry_, what reason was there for me to open up those wounds?" Elsa says, touching her chest. "I don't know. _I don't know. _But then, this year, you suddenly sent me a friend request and I will admit, I was a little shocked. It took me a few days to consider it, I accepted but you didn't ... you didn’t do anything? For months, things between us were silent. And then Summer came and it feels like you just woke up like some sleeper agent asking to meet up out of nowhere. It's – It's convenient that my cousin lives here so that I can see you, but, I’m so anxious. I'm just so confused by all of this. So, I’m asking, what is all this?"

Hans' expression bunches together like he was gathering his thoughts. His face looked sad. "I … I didn't intend for you to feel all this, Elsa. I'm sorry, truly. I just wanted to meet up. It's like I said, I saw you as my best friend when we were kids. I thought it would be nice to treat you to lunch and catch up, you were very kind to me. But, from what you tell me, a lot of unfortunate events happened after I left. I feel terrible. All this time you've been carrying an unknown torch of bad luck that _I_ passed to you."

Her hands reach forwards and she spills the contents of her mind on the table. "I – I'm not blaming you, Hans. It’s just –” Elsa wants to clear a few things up. "I’m just trying to figure things out, that’s all. Bad luck started falling on me when you disappeared and I got … sad." _Depressed_, really. And anxiety-riddled, over-thinking every chance she got. "I started thinking maybe ... maybe it **was** my fault? Why else would one bad thing happen after another? My mind wasn't well. Even now, to be honest, I'm still struggling."

Hans nods understandingly. Elsa’s starting to think she’s sounding depressing and confusing, which is the last thing she wants. She thought she had recovered from this.

Elsa touches her eyebrow with a smooth finger. “I want you to see it from my point of view, Hans. I was one of the brightest students in that school, I won several awards for being smart and artsy, but in the end, none of that mattered because suddenly I was _the bad guy_. It's like all my years of being a good girl didn't matter because one misunderstanding made me look like a monster."

Hans runs his hand through his thick red hair as a pained expression etched itself on his face. "You said that you don't recall much of our childhood together, right? There are some blank bits you want to fill-in?"

Elsa nods. She admits she’s forgotten, clasps her hands together and speaks, "It happened ages ago. It's been so long that I don't remember the details too well.”

Hans nods again. "Do you even remember how old we were? How long we were friends?"

Elsa chews on the inside of her cheek. "No. Should I have?"

"We were ten.” He says like it was vital.

“Is that important?”

“It’s important to me.”

“Why?”

Hans clears his throat, trying to decide how to help her sort out her thoughts. “Did you study in our old primary school until you graduated?”

“Yeah,”

“Okay, this information is important because we weren't even friends for a year."

She stares at him.

Wait, _what_? No, that can't be true. How could something so significant in her life occur in such a short while?

“Whatever incident you’re talking about – ‘that incident’ – it's not as vital as you think it was. It wasn't the reason I moved. As I said, I move all the time." Hans says. "You may have thought that I studied in that old school for years and years like you did, and that we only met when we were in the same class together, but I was actually new."

"You were?" She asks.

"Yeah, it wasn’t my first or last move. During my whole eleven years of education, I've moved ..." He started counting his fingers. "Six – No, seven times."

"Wha –! Wow."

"It was a pretty lonely childhood, always drifting from group to group and making acquaintances but not friends." Hans says then explained further. "Elsa, I only studied at that school for a year, I only knew you for a short period of time but I remembered you the most because you were one of the few people who actually tried to be my friend." He tells her, making her smile. Then – "Also, could you clear something up for me? I still don't know what incident you're talking about.”

“How can you not? There were a pair of twins who picked on you. Uh, the Stabbington brothers? One of them punched you, you were knocked out for a solid minute. I had to cradle your little head in my little hands. I cried over your body, I thought you were dead!”

“Clearly I wasn’t.” Hans replies and had the gall to grin.

Elsa’s face morphs into a serious one. “Why did the twins pick on you?”

“Oh, I can answer that. One of the twins contacted me a few years ago on _Facebook._ He told me why he bothered me so much, the origin of my bullying isn’t all that deep. Apparently, they bullied me because I was ginger.”

“But … the twins are ginger too.”

"They were projecting their insecurities on me. I was told other people picked on them for the same reason. Since I was smaller and somewhat of a loner, I became their target."

Then, “So … one of the twins contacted you to tell you why he did all that bad stuff to you?”

Hans tilts his head, “No, he contacted me so that he could ask me if I could forgive him and his brother for all the things they had done to me years ago. His brother got into an accident, lost an eye.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So.” Elsa swallows. “Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Did you forgive them?”

Hans looks down at the table. “Yes.”

Elsa nods, glad Hans was able to settle history with one of his old bullies.

Hans grins at Elsa then his green eyes shut squints. “I think we still have a lot to discuss. Let me tell you my side of the story."

"O –" Her voice shook. "Okay."

.

.

.

He told her everything she wanted to know and more.

After more than a decade, all these knots and wrinkles have been cleared up. To think, all this happened because of small misunderstandings and lack of communication. Sounds like drama worthy of a movie, but Elsa guesses she understands now what people mean when they say 'communication is key', because it really is and all of this could have been prevented if the adults had just asked and listened and treated the children like they were human beings instead of innocent creatures.

Hans turns to Elsa like he was expecting her to talk next while his car keys were in his hands. Then asks, “Hey, do you want to visit our old school?"

Elsa double-takes, hands around her handbag. "What?"

"I mean, we're still obviously hurt by that place. We could get closure. People our age are either finishing their studies or starting their careers or getting married, it seems silly for us to be still holding onto this grudge." He explains then shrugs. "We could, I don't know, let all our frustrations out by throwing rocks at the gate?" Hans says and Elsa's too taken aback to reply. "It's Summer so the school's closed, no one's there, no one's gonna get hurt. We could throw rocks from afar so it doesn't hit anyone, if there is anyone there, and I'm pretty if we don't break anything then it doesn't count as vandalism, right? If you want to do something more extreme, I could boost you up and we climb the gate, um, walk around? Some light breaking and entering? The school would probably feel like a horror movie, though, since it's abandoned and it's just us two."

"You –" She struggled to fight a smile. "You're crazy."

Hans exchanges her smile with his own grin. "People have told me that, I don’t mind.”

* * *

The idea sounded _exciting_ in theory, but now that they’re here, in broad daylight where it’s hot and humid, the plan starts to sound stupid. The gate was just open so they parked outside and walked in.

Elsa turns and looks around the empty parking lot. "Shouldn't we ask permission?” Elsa asks. “The guard is _right there_ in his little hut-house thing. He can clearly see us."

"What's there to ask?” Hans asks back. “We're just walking around the compound, it’s not like we’re stealing.”

"Earlier you wanted to throw stones." Elsa accuses.

"I was kidding –" Hans begins but his explanation was cut short.

"Excuse me, you two!" A new voice calls out, non-threatening but enough to make them stop in their tracks.

"I told you. _I told you_." Elsa whispers harshly, gripping onto her handbag.

Hans' green eyes passes over to her. He says in an equally low voice, "Okay, I get it, you told me. Now, shhh. You'll make us look suspicious."

"Me?" Elsa gaps and it feels like they're children trying not to get their hands caught red in the cookie jar. She would have elbowed him in the ribs if the action didn't make her look bad.

The guard approaches them – a man with tan skin and brown dreadlocks – and grins; he seemed friendly and relaxed. He asks, "Hiyya, who are you here to see? A staff member?"

Elsa's blue eyes immediately meets Hans and they shared a similar expression that read 'there are people here?'.

"Um," Elsa munches on her lower lip. "No one."

The guard gave them a weird look.

Hans clears his throat and says, "We're here to visit the school, we use to study here years ago."

The guard continued to stare. He either thought it was the strangest date idea or some flex as ‘we met here ten years ago’ anniversary thing.

"Okay, well." The guard says. "You have to fill this permission slip. Answer basic details like your name and identification then go to the teachers' lounge to get it signed."

"We have to go to the teachers' lounge?" Hans blanches.

The guard nods.

"Fuck." Hans curses under his breath.

.

.

.

"Hello, lovelies," A woman around their age says. She was brunette and dressed like an art teacher. She spoke with a British accent, her name tag read **MISS PORTER**.

Elsa almost wished this woman was her teacher when she was younger, Miss Porter sounded very kind.

"Are you here to see anyone?" The teacher asks.

Elsa begins to shake her head, but then Hans presses his lips together in thought and asks, "Is Mister Facilier here?"

The teacher's eyebrows squeeze together. "I don't know who that person is. He must have moved before I was assigned to teach here. Most of the staff members are new."

That got Elsa thinking. The blonde takes a small step forward and asks, "What about the principal?"

"Principal Kronk?"

"Oh." Elsa feels something inside her melt. "No, I meant Principal Yzma, but I guess she got reassigned too?"

"I suppose so." Miss Porter says.

"Well," Elsa blinks, assessing the information. "Okay then, we just need this slip signed then we'll be on our way."

.

.

.

As soon as they exited the teachers' lounge, Hans looks to Elsa and asks, "Do you remember Mister Facilier?"

Her raised eyebrows answered his question.

"He was the disciplinary teacher. He used to make us call his _Doctor_ Facilier instead of _Mister_ Facilier, though, we mostly called him 'Shadow man' behind his back." Hans says. "Man, he was a jerk. He thought I was no good as a kid. The memory of him pulling on my ear still lives on, it really hurt."

"Why did he pull your ear?" Elsa asks.

"He accused me of something."

Her blue eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Hans replies. "As I said, I was accused."

"Are you going to tell me what you were accused off?" Elsa asks, hands now joined to her back.

"It was –" He pauses, eyes unfocused like he was far away. Then he shook his head and tells her, "No, I better not. It was embarrassing and you'd think so lowly of me."

"Fine," She pretends. "Don't tell me."

"I won't."

"I was kidding. You can't shut me out like that." She says.

But he distracts with a question of "Do you still read a lot?"

She tilts her chin upwards. "You remembered?"

"How can I not? You always had your nose buried in one."

And then she smiles, nerves easing. "Reading still occupies my time, yes."

They pass hallways and classrooms and lockers, pointing to things they remembered until they came by a closed toilet door and, this time, Elsa brings something up.

"Okay, when we were kids, did you ever hear the circulations of ghosts stories about the toilets?"

"Just the girls' toilet."

"It's always the girls'," Elsa throws her hands up in frustration and it makes Hans smile. "There's always a rumour going on, like – ohhh, they removed all the mirrors because you can see the reflection of the dead ghost girl who killed herself in the last stall.”

“That’s grim.”

“It was, and scary. I always had to have a friend accompany me. Being alone was terrifying."

"Sucks to be you, I could pee in peace." He says almost boastfully. Then, they passed by a specific locker and Hans asks, "Do you remember Flynn?"

"Who?" Elsa asks back.

"You know? Flynn." Hans says and waves his hands around like how Elsa had earlier. "He was in our class. Brunette, he played with rulers like they were swords. I'm pretty sure he stole stuff."

Elsa pauses to reconsider Hans’ memories then says, "You mean Eugene?"

Hans pulls a face. "Who the hell is Eugene?"

This made Elsa laugh. "I’m pretty sure it was Eugene because he used to make fun of you for having no eyebrows.”

"Hey, I _have_ eyebrows.” Hans protests. “The downsides of being a ginger is that sometimes my hair is very fair."

"What if I drew some visible eyebrows on you?"

"Oh, my friend did that for me once. She said it looked wrong. I didn't believe her until she took my picture and I agreed, it's a cursed image."

"I wanna see." Elsa says, eyes almost shining with interest.

"Can't you just use your imagination?"

"I'm not _that_ creative."

He snorts at her. "Liar. You're the most creative person I know."

Elsa laughs again. She forgot how much she liked hanging out with Hans. She can't believe she was convinced at some point that she needed an escape plan – like punching his face and breaking his nose.

.

.

.

He dropped her off at the train station.

She exited the vehicle then leans into view of the open car door and smiles, hands on the top of his hood. "Thank you." She says.

Hans exchanges smiles. "No problem. If you're around, let's catch up some more, yeah?"

She nods. "Yeah."

And as she eased to shut the door, she felt like she could close this chapter of her life just nicely. She realised all the teachers that were mean to them had all moved away and that the school was just a building now, just a place. But, Hans was here and she was here. And there was forgiveness.

With that, she closed the door.

* * *

**end**

**Author's Note:**

> Notes 2:  
School guard - Tarzan  
Kind teacher - Jane Porter  
New nice principal - Kronk  
Mean teacher guy - Dr Facilier  
Mean principal - Yzma  

> 
> Notes 3: Okay, but, would you believe me if I said this was a real thing that happened to me? Except that I didn't tell my friend the true nature of visiting the school. My intention was to actually break-in, I'm a chaotic neutral. He didn't know I wanted revenge. He didn't know the plan has laid dormant for like 13 years. He was gonna be my unknowing accomplish.
> 
> But in the end we just walked in like people and not even 5 mins in, we had to get this form signed so we had to go to the teacher's lounge – and, we realised all the teachers that were mean to us had all moved away so the school was just a building now. Just a place. And after that, we walked around the school some more and we notice the changes and the things that were kept constant like the price of the cafeteria food.
> 
> But, what I mostly noticed was how tiny those kids were and I wondered how I could have possibly possessed all those feelings of anger and sadness when I was that similarly tiny. I think, that's why it took a few years to get all of those feelings out because my body couldn't feel so much in one go and it had to come out in waves.
> 
> Anyway, this fic is a more dramatic version. The real version is much more chill. My friend talked a lot during our lunch. Like, A LOT. And one point he was talking about Jesus and I just sat there thinking, 'Wow, Jesus is really trying to worm his way into my heart lately'. Gotta give Jesus props for trying to help me heal and forgive people in the past. I think it's nice that Jesus thinks of me when I'm not thinking of him. I'm getting to that age where I may or may not be religious.
> 
> Also, through the entirety of my friend talking, I had a big smile on my face, but on the inside, I was trying really hard not to laugh at this meme I remembered.  

> 
> Notes 4: Wow, I'm really breaking my usual Helsa tropes of 'someone leaves at the end because this is an unhealthy toxic relationship' because the last fic, Hans and Elsa both stayed together, and this one – he came back after several years. All I needed to do was change OTP to BROTP and viola!
> 
> Notes 5: **Lessons I want you to learn from this fic**  
\- Speak up because communication. is. key! Don't assume you're right or that the other person is on the same page as you.  
\- Your anxiety is lying to you.  
\- Put yourself first and don't blame yourself. Practice saying 'thank you' and appreciate what you have instead of assuming you've done harm. You can apologise all you want but some people won't forgive you, and that's not your fault to.  
\- Bad shit happens to good people. It's up to you on how you handle it. So you fell in some shit, are you gonna lay in it and cry or are you going to get up, get yourself clean and laugh about it? It doesn't have to haunt you, it can teach you a thing or two!  
\- Don't let bad people ruin your life. Misery does not need company! Fuck misery!
> 
> – 3 September 2019


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